Amsterdam
by lishearnest
Summary: Emil has sought freedom from his nordic family by moving to Amsterdam, only to be disappointed by what he considers to be the most filthy and shameful city he's ever seen. That is, however, until a strange and alluring man enters his life and challenges everything he has come to believe about the world around him. (NedIce, modern, human AU, rating will change as story progresses.)
1. Chapter 1

Et voilà! The brief introductory chapter to my second multi-chapter fic! This story is a bit more personal, so hopefully that (and practice!) will make it an improvement from my last one.

I use human names as follows:  
Iceland - Emil  
Netherlands - Lars  
Finland - Tino  
More will appear as the story is updated.

Chapter 2 will be up soon as well. Enjoy!

* * *

Wertheim Park didn't prove to be the clean patch of grass that Emil had been hoping for, and by the time he arrived he just wanted to turn around and walk right back home. Why was it so hard to find a quiet, comfortable space outside his own home to take a break and clear his head? Emil thought the entire city of Amsterdam to be a crowded, unsanitary mess, and wondered to himself if it would ever be worth leaving Iceland to live here - although either way he felt he had no choice.

He decided to rest his feet for a few minutes before walking back and settled on the edge of the park's fountain. Surveying the scene in front of him, as usual, depressed him. People walked - some briskly, some leisurely - along the sidewalks and through the grass. Sounds of laughter and traffic echoed through the atmosphere. There was a mother with her two daughters having a picnic to his left and the early afternoon sun was punctuating the carefree positivity of the space. No, this was definitely not a place he could relax. Not when there were so many people enjoying their day around him and all he could do was wonder how incredible it must be to be able to feel that bliss.

Emil decided he'd had enough of his little spontaneous adventure and was about to stand to leave when he suddenly became entranced by a gap in the cheery atmosphere. It was looming over a man sitting on a bench about 4 meters to his right with his back to Emil. This man was alone - had he always been there? - smoking a pipe and watching as cars passed by just beyond the park's fence. It seemed, for a brief moment, that everything else about the day around Emil disappeared - the fountain, the mother with her children, the sun shining much too hot - none of it existed and the only thing left to think about was this ominous man and his pipe.

The man in question seemed to blend into his surroundings - into the bench, into Wertheim Park, like he had established such a peaceful coexistence with this city that he himself had become a part of Amsterdam - and that this was all an outstanding and fascinating act unfolding right before Emil's eyes. He seemed to attract everything to him like some sort of magnetic force, but nothing and no one around him seemed to realize that this was happening.

What was it that had grabbed Emil's attention like this? Was it the man's silent and rigid stature that contrasted with the relaxed people around him? Was it the fact that he was the only person alone in the park besides Emil himself? Was it the oddity of a pipe? That was it, Emil decided, and he was instantly snapped out of his trance. How indecent it was to smoke so shamelessly in a public park! Yet another reason he hated this city: too many people polluting common air with their unhealthy habits! It angered him to watch and he decided that that was why he couldn't pull his stare from this stranger, of course! (Why did he feel he hadn't quite convinced himself?)

After concluding that he had solved the mystery of this man, Emil finally stood and walked the other way to return to the street.

For the rest of his evening, Emil busied his mind with his usual activities: tidying his flat, making himself dinner, even starting a new book, but his attempts to clear his mind of the man he had seen in the park earlier were futile. Who was he? What was he like? Why did his very existence cause Emil to feel the need to ask so many questions?

Sleep - he just needed to sleep.

* * *

The department stores on the east side of town were simply the best, that was all. At least, that was Emil's explanation as to why he was making his way down Amstel road towards Wertheim Park the Wednesday after his first adventure in this area. It certainly had nothing to do with his childish hopes of getting another glimpse of the strange man who refused to leave his mind alone.

Crossing over Blue Bridge, Emil picked up his speed. His excursion had to be completed within the next hour and a half - his shift at the supermarket started at 1.

By the time he reached the park, he had decided to walk along the road that was just outside the black fence surrounding it in the direction that the man had been facing. The exact bench where he had sat was now approaching on Emil's left, and he kept his eyes strictly on the concrete in front of him until the very second that he was passing the bench on the other side of the fence. (How ridiculous could he be? What was he hoping for anyway, that observing the spot where the man had sat would answer the questions consuming his thoughts? That for some odd reason, the man would still be sitting there and Emil could discover his face?)

Not knowing what to expect Emil turned his head, only to have his pulse freeze and his breath catch in his lungs. The man was there. Emil was certain that he was the same man as before - not only did he have the same tall blonde hair he had seen from behind, and even the same blue and white striped scarf despite the growing warmth of the day, but Emil also felt the same entrancing atmosphere around him as before. The four seconds that Emil spent passing by him felt like they occurred in slow motion, and Emil was convinced that they had become the only two people to exist within a 100 mile radius. Once he was no longer beside the man Emil snapped his gaze back to the sidewalk before him and reestablished his steady breathing.

After a few moments of trying to process what had happened, he was able to realize what the man had looked like. In his mind Emil recalled a stiff, hard face with a vertical scar above the the right eyebrow and bright green eyes that Emil could feel seeing right through him. Wait - the man had been looking at him! They had made eye contact! Why hadn't he noticed this while it was happening!?

And then there was the pipe. That goddamn pipe that ruined the whole thing. That's what he decided to focus on instead of the fascinating - dare he say it? - _allure_ of this man. How great could this man possibly be if he makes _those_ kinds of irresponsible and unhealthy choices for himself? Certainly he was not worth Emil's peace of mind, he concluded before he tried his best to return his attention to finding the nearest department store.


	2. A New World of Possibilities

Important to know for this chapter:

In the Netherlands, "Coffee_shops_" are shops where the selling of cannabis is tolerated by local authorities.

However, Coffee _Houses_ are your regular cup of coffee stops.

Chapter 3 should be up by the end of the year... hopefully!

* * *

Emil stared at his phone as if wishing it to be silent would make it stop ringing. The dialing code was 358, indicating that the call was coming from Finland. He had intended to burn all bridges between himself and his Nordic family by moving, but a call from Finland would be from his brother Tino who had been the kindest to him, and Emil felt awfully guilty for ignoring every single one of his previous calls. For the first time in over 5 months, he picked up his phone.

"Hello?" He answered, already frustrated that he had given in.

"Emil? Is that you!?"

"Yes..."

"Oh thank god!" Emil could practically feel the relief coming from the other through the phone. "Are you okay? Where are you? You have no idea how worried we were when we saw you had sold your apartment and disappeared without a word!"

"Yes, Tino, I am perfectly okay." How much should he tell? "I haven't gone far. I just moved to Amsterdam. I have a flat and a job as well as money I had been saving for a while. You don't need to worry. I'm happy here, really." That little lie at the end for the sake of Tino's peace of mind couldn't hurt.

"Oh I am so happy to hear that. Everyone else will be too, really. But..." oh great, Emil thought, here it comes. "why so sudden? Why no warning, no contact, nothing?"

Emil already had an answer prepared. "I'll tell you when I know for sure myself."

It wasn't a shallow response he had prepared to avoid the subject, it was the honest truth. He knew his family had always had the best intentions for him, he wasn't going to deny that much. They probably hadn't even realized the damage they were doing with their constant pressure and fighting. Emil knew he had to escape in order to thrive. But it was a good question - why had he felt the need to do it so suddenly and secretively? He usually opted to stop thinking about it before he figured that much out.

Emil heard a sigh from the other end of the line. "Very well, then" Tino concluded.

"Wait," Emil wasn't sure why he hadn't wondered this sooner, "how did you get this number? I thought I left no clues..."

"Well... you see..." Tino almost sounded ashamed. "Berwald has his ways... you have to understand we were all worried for your life..."

"So you spied on me." Emil accused. This was ridiculous! Tino probably even knew where he was before asking!

"_Spy _sounds so dramatic... we were just checking in on -"

"Whatever." Emil knew he was starting to sound harsh, but he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. Couldn't he ever _escape? _ "Just, I don't really want to be contacted again. Is that alright?"

"Oh Emil..." was all Tino could say. Emil took a deep breath.

"I have your number now since you called just in case there's an emergency. I know I can trust you. But just know that I'm safe and happy even if you're not hearing from me."

"Suppose that is the important part. Okay. Stay safe then, and remember I am just a phone call away." Emil was feeling his gut sinking into shame at this point in their conversation. "We love you Emil, remember that."

"Mhm... bye..." was all he could manage. He hung up before the other could have a chance to hear the weakness in his voice. Afterwords he was only certain of one thing: he had to get out to clear his head.

* * *

Now Emil _really_ couldn't stand himself. He was already depressed and anxious after Tino's call, and now he had stormed his way to Wertheim park without thinking twice. What was worse - for some reason that he was too afraid to understand - was that the captivating and intriguing man he had seen was now nowhere to be found. Well, that wasn't unreasonable. It was growing near 9:00 PM, who else would be senseless enough to wander around a park at this time of night, especially after sundown?

How would the man being there have made things better anyway? It's not like Emil wasn't suffering from anything that wasn't his fault - it's not like anyone could help him dig his way out. He hated Amsterdam and was inexplicably unhappy. This he knew. He couldn't move back North - he couldn't breathe around his brothers. Should he try moving South, or even East, but just to somewhere less urban? Would another move solve his problems? Could he even afford it? He was already settled here and had secure in a job that he could live off of, but dear god he was so _lonely._

His hands gripped the concrete edge of the fountain he was sitting on until his knuckles turned white. He realized he was breathing heavily and he had to remind himself not to yell out of frustration or even worse: cry. Emil knew he probably needed to, but it would be far too inappropriate, at least here and now. This was his punishment for moving spontaneously, he thought, and now he was unbearably lost.

Not only that - at this moment he was in danger. He felt it before he heard it. Someone was walking up to him from behind. Emil wasn't necessarily weak, but he knew he wouldn't be able to fight off a capable attacker if that's what was happening. He thought he should leave quickly, but he didn't want to be too sudden. Should he just get up and walk? Should he turn to look straight at the approaching stranger? Was there anyone around him to help or be a witness if needed? He prepared to move. However, to Emil's surprise, the stranger made no attempt to keep his presence a secret. Instead...

"You've been coming here often." A statement. Emil snapped his head around at the absurdly smooth and casual voice. And of course - he should have expected this! - he was met by a pair of emerald eyes and a carved wooden pipe.

"Just... a couple of times..." The man was looming over Emil and he felt intimidated and uneasy.

"Very well. May I sit with you?" he actually waited for Emil's response. The younger boy nodded, his eyes unintentionally wide, and the man took a seat next to him on the concrete edge of the fountain.

Unfortunately, when he did this, the smoke from his pipe swirled around Emil and the boy tried to cough its heaviness out of his lungs. This didn't escape the man's attention. He chuckled ever so slightly, uttered an apology, snuffed out his pipe, and placed it on the other side of him, away from Emil. What would urge someone to engage in such a nasty habit? Even after the man had put out his pipe, the stench of tobacco was soaked into his clothes. It made Emil wonder if he should question this man's morals and intentions, and also why he had let him sit down in the first place.

Although, being honest with himself, Emil wasn't sure he could have denied the others' request. He had a character as hazy as the smoke that surrounded him, and by god, Emil was certain this man's looks could get him anything he wanted. He knew he couldn't have said no to this mysterious masterpiece of a man. However, the other hadn't uttered a word of conversation since joining him, and Emil thought that rude.

"I'm Emil. And you are...?" he asked, deciding to try and break the silence.

"Lars is my name. Nice to meet you" he responded, staring at the space in front of him. "Do you live here in Amsterdam or are you traveling?" He inquired flatly.

"I moved here from Iceland this past summer."

"Why?" Lars' questions seemed nonchalant and effortless.

Was this stranger asking personal life questions already? How impolite! Still, for some odd reason, Emil felt he needed to answer.

"Family problems. I needed a new start." Emil grew suspicious that his responses were being drawn too easily from him and was suddenly embarrassed that he wasn't being more reserved. He had to get back at Lars. "And what about you? Do you live here? How long have you been here? Why?" Lars smirked at the interrogation and Emil realized that he had probably sounded childishly eager. He decided to stay quiet after that.

"I've lived in Amsterdam all my life. Wouldn't leave it for the world." Emil nodded to acknowledge the man's answer, then let silence sweep over them again.

Of course he's always lived here, Emil thought. He's shady, suspicious, probably manipulative, and most likely into some unspeakable things. What a holistic representation of this city. But even as he was thinking this, he couldn't pull himself to stand and walk away. It was like there was an entire new world of possibilities sitting just two feet to his left... he halted his imagination there. It did no good for independent young men like himself to fantasize like that.

It was Lars who broke the silence. "Do you think you will stay here?" Emil shrugged. "What, you don't like Amsterdam?"

"Not particularly" he stated.

Lars sighed in disbelief. "Well that won't do! This city is far too magnificent to leave somebody unhappy with it."

"Maybe for someone like you." Whoops, that was a bit too cheeky, Emil thought, but Lars didn't seem offended. He was silent for a few seconds, but when he spoke again, he sounded _amused._

"Someone like me, huh. I see then." Emil knew the man could see straight through his euphemisms to his true judgements. How... embarrassing.

"I tell you what. I can show you the beauty of this city better than anyone. How about we meet up at a coffee house tomorrow? I can't treat, but I can show you some cool stuff around the area." Emil exhaled audibly and looked to the ground. He couldn't believe this! Surely this man wasn't offering to... but he was! Emil wasn't so much of a stranger here that he didn't know about the infamous Dutch "coffee houses!" He stood his ground with a shaky voice.

"I apologize but I prefer to refrain from associating myself with _that kind_ of shopping." This time the man didn't try to conceal his amusement and let out an obvious snort in response.

"I suppose you _are_ new here. You're thinking about coffee_shops. _Which, I do know a few good ones if you ever become interested. However, coffee _houses_ are your regular coffee and snack stops. I don't suppose you won't associate with _that kind_ of shopping, right?"

Emil felt his face burning red. What a stupid mistake! Instinctively he thinks he could act smooth by accepting Lars' offer and brushing off his blunder. But there was an intimidating, fearful uncertainty running through his veins, and the only thing that did for him in the moment was give him more excuses.

"Either way I have to work tomorrow, so I can't." He lied. (He had Saturdays off.)

"Fine, fine" Lars replied. "Well I'll be at the Café de Jaren on Nieuwe Doelenstraat from 12h to 12h30 tomorrow if you change your mind." His Dutch accent was heavy when he spoke these names and the sound made Emil shiver. However Lars' bluntness of "if you change your mind" indicated to him that the man wasn't buying his lies, and this infuriated him. Without thinking, he turned to offer some spontaneous snarky retort only to see Lars already a few yards away, disappearing into the night, his white and blue scarf flapping behind him.

* * *

Emil didn't even try to filter the questions crowding his mind that night. Should he trust this man? Why did he always seem to be there? How did he know to speak English automatically? By 11:00 PM Emil had gotten impressively creative with all of the questions he could come up with about the situation, but the one that bothered him the most, of course, was this: should he meet Lars at the café tomorrow?

He knew it was a bad idea. It was obviously an awful idea to trust or go along with anything this man said. Then why was Emil, against all better judgement, so undeniably tempted to go?


End file.
